


TMA Ficlets: Dialogue Prompts

by cruelest_month



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Regency, Banter, Communication actually happening, Do Not Archive, Fluff, M/M, Monster!Jon, Prison, Romance, Season 4 AU for Tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-07-28 08:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20060986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruelest_month/pseuds/cruelest_month
Summary: Short fics based on different Dialogue snippets from Tumblr suggestions.





	1. “Twins? We’re…we’re having twins?!” - Peter/Elias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt. This ended up being a sequel to [the other a/b/o fic I wrote](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F19772308&t=N2YyMDBiOGIxYjYyMmQ0YmZkMjI2NWU1NzlkMTQ5ZGY0Y2YxZGFkYixqTG9MUHBtdw%3D%3D&b=t%3As-j-NRRrngvqyXUELBbwKQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fcruelestmonth.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F186635431890%2Flonely-eyes-no-37-please&m=1). For obvious reasons.

He spends the majority of his time in a relaxing haze, tracking the movements of everyone inside the Institute. All save Peter. He knows better. Elias is thin enough on allies and while it seems highly unlikely he’ll fall out of Peter’s good graces, he’s already caught in them. No sense making matters worse.

He follows Martin in particular. He ought to have paid more attention to Martin and he knows Peter won’t. Peter has two ways of being as a leader. Given a task, a ship, and a crew, Peter is a focused taskmaster. Give him a business to oversee and he’s a jovial uncle eager to please. When the day’s done, he’s introverted and exhausted from the effort. He’ll evaporate into mist every chance he gets.

Martin complains of headaches until Elias relents, wistful about what might have been. He could have found multiple uses for Martin if he hadn’t dismissed him outright.

Jon is still recovering and staring isn’t always enough. Elias longs to visit. His leash is short, however.

He isn’t given much to do, but he does what he’s told. He begs off meeting with Nathaniel several times. It’s quite easy. Peter seems a bit annoyed at himself whenever he agrees if quite pleased by the reward for doing so. He goes where he’s told too including to an appointment he would have liked to not keep.

This visit to the doctor … Well, for one thing, there’s likely no more ducking out of seeing Nathaniel. His decision means the leash gets that much shorter too. Still, it guarantees him protection and a Lukas. Peter is quite content having Elias belong to him but Elias is eager for more ways to bind Peter to his side. _His kind gets rather stupid when they’re given precisely what they want._

Elias could set a watch by Peter’s routines. Today is no exception. Peter comes in, whistling cheerfully and all but hurling his briefcase to rest beneath the coat rack.

“You’ll never guess who is bent out of shape about my temporary role.”

“Does it start with an S and end with a D?”

“Yes, and the old bastard would like to have a word with you. I think he’s have convinced I’ve had you done away with. He’s threatening to pull funding otherwise so I guess you’re to meet him for dinner tomorrow.”

“Without you?”

“I imagine I can trust you for the length of a meal,” Peter says with a shrug. “If you arrange to have me killed, I’ll be quite disappointed.”

Elias smiles. He has always liked Simon. “Hm. It’s tempting,” he admits, rising from his chair. He slides Peter’s coat off his broad shoulders and hangs it up. After smoothing down the collar to Peter’s shirt, he kisses him gently. “Only I’ve got very good news to share with you. I’ll need you alive for the result of it.”

“…Elias, you’re supposed to behave. That means laying low and doing very little.”

“Don’t scold me. This is completely your fault for messing with my suppressants. Take a look.”

Elias goes back to the table and retrieves an envelope.

Peter opens it gingerly as if there’s a deadly disease inside of it. He examines the contents, eyebrows rising slightly. “Twins? We’re…we’re having twins?!”

“Congratulations.”

“You should be sitting down. Or laying down. Or… What exactly did the doctor say?”

“Very nice things. Take a breath. Maybe more than one,” Elias suggests. He escorts Peter to a parlor and to a couch.

Peter hands the envelope back, looking confused. “You’re actually going through with this.”

“We’d be having a very different conversation otherwise.”

“In some ways. I told you it’s up to you.”

“You did,” Elias agrees, sitting down next to him. “I’ve always thought that was very sweet.”

“Selfish, actually. I’ve been a resented child,” Peter quietly points out. They’ve had this conversation before, of course, but seeing as there’s no one else to admit it to, Elias never says much when it gets repeated. “Which isn’t a problem in of itself. I turned out just fine, of course. It’s just not something I care to embark upon with an omega of my own.”

“With your omega. You only get the one,” Elias corrects.

Peter rolls his eyes. “Don’t I know it,” he mutters good-naturedly. “So, darling, why the change of heart?”

“With everything else going on, I think it wouldn’t hurt to start our own family. Made up of people who can stand me, if all goes according to plan.”

Peter chuckles.

“What?”

“You’re in for a very unpleasant surprise when these two show up. Kids are the literal worst when it comes to expectations. They will hate you as much as they love you. You won’t have to guess about that or look into it with your eyes either. They’ll tell you.”

“I’ll find it within me to tolerate them anyway.”

“Mother of the year,” Peter says in a fond tone. He kisses Elias’ temple and then pulls him into his arms. “You’re sure about this?”

“As sure as I am that if you abandon me during this process, I will gouge your eyes out.”

Peter kisses Elias’ neck. “Never. If you’re having my children, I’ll be here. I’m here already, aren’t I?”

“Over your patron’s objections?”

“No, you’re fine as far as that’s concerned. Besides, parenting provides you with ample ways to be incredibly miserable and lonely while never allowing you to be alone. It’s perfect.”

“I mean it, Peter.”

“I mean it too. I won’t desert you until it gets much harder.”

Elias glares at him.

Peter smirks. “I think there’s a more serious question being overlooked in all of this. Do I waste good cigars on your people or just buy some chocolate ones?”

“They don’t need to know.”

Peter gives him a bit of a sulky look. He, of course, is eager to announce the situation to the entire world. “They’ll probably figure it out at some point, my dear. I do want you around the office. I’m not going to let them forget who is actually in charge seeing as it’ll be awhile until you’re back.”

Elias blinks.

Peter chuckles. “Don’t look so surprised. There is no way in hell I’m letting you stay at home with the children once they’re here. You’re no fun at all. So you’ll go to work and I’ll look after them.”

“Nathaniel—”

“Can sod off but I would appreciate you not telling him that. He’ll be ever so pleased there’s children on the way and you’re being a good little omega at last. That’s the extent of the knowledge he’s entitled to.”

Elias frowns. “I didn’t think…”

“Oh yes, you did. You wouldn’t be having twins if you didn’t think I would,” Peter points out. “You’re too clever for that. It just didn’t occur to you to question it too much because you knew what would happen.”

“So it would appear that I both appreciate and trust you entirely.” Elias isn’t sure he’s happy about this although it’s been relatively obvious in some form or another for a while now.

Peter grins. “Terribly sorry. Still, the fact of the matter is you’d be a torment to be around if you’re kept from your precious Institute and Archivist. Can’t have you making too many sacrifices for me anyway. People will think we’re in love.”

“Let them,” Elias says gently, taking Peter’s hand in his. “I’m rather fond of you and not ashamed of it.”

“So chocolate cigars, balloons, banners, and a cake. I’ll get Martin a thank you card for making it all possible. What a dear boy he is. He can organize the baby shower later on.”

Elias chuckles.

“You can come in tomorrow if you like. You’re the reason for the season as it were.”

“No, no, I’ll watch. It’ll be infinitely more entertaining that way.”

Peter eyes Elias curiously. “I wasn’t sure I ought to bring it up as I know you like to go undetected, but I did notice that you don’t watch me.”

“I was trying to be polite since I’m being punished. Slightly, anyway. I thought you’d dislike it.”

“Hm. I wouldn’t,” Peter decides. He smiles after a moment. “Actually, I’d quite like it. Tell me when you’re tuning in and I’ll give you a show.”

“Sometimes I come this close to loving you,” Elias says, holding his thumb and index finger so close to one another that they’re practically touching.

Peter presses the digits together and smiles. “Come and tolerate me upstairs then,” he says, taking up Elias’ hand and kissing the back of it. “I want to celebrate us properly.”


	2. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” - Peter/Elias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Emperiocism.

Elias sighs a bit when Peter doesn’t answer the door. It’s his own fault, he supposes, that this isn’t working out either. It’s raining and the water landing on the eaves is seeping down directly onto him. He shivers and sighs under his breath. He tries the bell again and then calls Peter’s phone.

“Yes?” a groggy, gravelly voice asks after the third ring.

“Good evening, Peter. Are you home?”

Peter sighs. “Home and sleeping as most people are at 2 am. That’s you at the door, is it?”

“Yes.”

Peter chuckles warmly. “Oh, Elias. What happened with the illustrious Mr. Sims?”

“It didn’t work out according to plan.”

“Really?” Peter says airily. “Oh my, it’s almost as if someone told you that earlier and you still attempted it like an old fool. Still, you did have a plan so that’s something. Well, have a pleasant evening.”

“Peter.”

“Elias.”

Elias grits his teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“Because?”

“Because you’ve done a good deal for me and I didn’t appreciate it. Because it’s raining rather hard outside and I could be in bed with you if I hadn’t thought to chance my luck with someone who is never going to give me a chance.”

“Never?”

“Never,” Elias agrees.

“That’s a very long time. What did you do? What did Jon say when you spoke to him?”

Elias clears his throat. “I believe his exact words were ‘Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?’”

Peter starts laughing and continues for a while. After a bit, the front door opens. Peter isn’t wearing much besides a robe. He looks entirely too amused by Elias’ plight. He leans out of the door and kisses Elias’ cheek. Then he puts his cellphone in his pocket. “Well, come in and don’t leave me in suspense. What did you tell him?”

Elias puts away his own phone. He brushes past Peter on his way inside. “I’m afraid the reasons did not help my case. I dressed quickly and left.” He shakes off his coat, hanging it up to dry and sighing quietly.

“So you’re back here again,” Peter muses. He closes the door and hands Elias a towel. “As predicted. I’ve told you that there’s no sense taking up with an Archivist. Not unless you can magically turn yourself into a file folder or cassette tape.”

“Or Martin Blackwood,” Elias dismally observes.

“If it helps, I doubt he’d know what to do with Martin in his bed either. Jonathan strikes me as a hand-holding cuddler. He doesn’t want what you’ve got to give.”

Elias frowns. “I don’t see how any of what you just said helps.”

Peter grins. “Oh dear. Well, let’s get you warmed up. Would you like some tea?”

“I suppose. You’re being awfully kind considering.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Peter says, resting a hand on Elias’ shoulder and squeezing. “I knew you’d be back with nothing to show for it, my darling. Maybe someone else out there wants you as much as I do. Maybe. I’ll set that bridge on fire when I come across it. Until then, you’re mine and I remain unconcerned.”

Elias smiles slightly. “I do like being yours although for the life of me I’m not sure why.”

“It’s because I know what to do when you’re naked in my bed,” Peter whispers into Elias’ ear, resting his hand against Elias’ backside. “What are the odds I’ll find you there by the time I’m done fetching you tea, hm?”

“Am I to be punished for not heeding your warnings?”

Peter nips at Elias’s ear. “Now that? That’s to be a surprise. Just be a good boy and get to the bed you belong in. We’ll see how charitable I’m feeling in a moment.”

Elias turns around and kisses Peter.

“You’re lucky I still want you,” Peter murmurs, letting an arm wrap lightly around Elias’ neck. “Particularly after you tried trading me in for a newer model.”

“He’s nothing like you,” Elias replies soothingly. “I wasn’t making an exchange. I never would. Just taking him for a spin, really, and you’re not entirely unfortunate yourself.”

“Oh?”

“I want you just as much. I know what to do with you in bed too. I’ve a few new notions as well.”

Peter considers Elias and then pulls him over his shoulder. He settles him there as Elias chuckles quietly.

“I suspect Jonathan couldn’t manage this either,” Elias muses.

Peter snorts as he heads for the stairs. “The differences between the two of us could fill a Leitner. Now. I think your tea will have to wait. And I’m going to let you show me these new ideas you’ve had. Hardly a fitting punishment, but I’ve got time to think of better.”

“Can I have my hands free to show you?”

Peter offers up a greedy smirk. “Eventually.”

Elias shivers slightly, relieved to be taken back and careful not to let all of it show. Still, he has no real issue appearing just as pleased as he feels about the prospect of what’s to come.


	3. “Come over here and make me.” - Jon/Tim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt.

Jon bangs on the door and then shakes it until finally it opens.

Tim stares at him for a moment before pulling him inside. He must have been editing something. He has reading glasses precariously balanced on the end of his nose. He looks a bit grimmer than before. Thinner. He’s decidedly confused. “Christ, Jon. How are you… They just let you walk out of the hospital?”

Jon folds up the glasses, sticking them in Tim’s shirt pocket. He pats them absently as he smiles at Tim. “I didn’t ask. Exactly.”

Tim roughly inspects Jon’s face for something. When he doesn’t find it, he kisses Jon gently and holds him. “I told you to jump ship with me, Jonathan Sims. Do something else. Anything else.”

“I told you I can’t.”

“Even now?”

Jon nods. “I didn’t see the others.”

“Martin was light on the details. I got into a bit of a row with Georgie straight away. She doesn’t like me.”

“The list of things we have in common continues to grow.”

“No, she… Perhaps that’s unfair of me to say. If anything, she knows a bit more about this than I seem to. I guess I’ve shut things out. I know haven’t handled anything well where you’re concerned.”

“You visited me. You care about me. You’re holding me,” Jon points out. “You opened the door, didn’t you? I think this is a good start.”

“You almost died. Were dead. Are… hm.” Tim checks Jon’s pulse. He feels Jon’s forehead and sighs. “That’s a bit of a relief. We should go probably back to the hospital though. Don’t you think?”

“No. I’m staying here and then I’m going to work in the morning. I need to.”

“Jon…”

“Don’t, Tim. Please just don’t.”

He doesn’t want to hear about doctors. He doesn’t want to entertain conversations about therapy or whatever comes next thanks to Georgie’s advice. He certainly doesn’t want to discuss his trauma or Tim’s trauma or whoever died because of the Unknowing. He wants the other normal things Tim can provide combined with the real understanding that comes from having been part of the Institute.

“I don’t even know what happened to me so what help can they possibly be?” Jon asks. “I made it through one side and out the other. Whatever I need, it certainly isn’t bed rest and tubes and nurses.”

Tim looks like he’s about to argue. He crosses his arms and sighs heavily. Eventually he comes to some sort of decision that is decidedly in Jon’s favor. “How about dinner?”

Jon rests his head in his hands as Tim prepares something simple. A stir-fry by the smell of it. Jon tends to like those, as he tends to be able to make them.

Jon pretends to enjoy the meal as he eats it, but it tastes like absolutely nothing. Maybe Tim’s gone light on the garlic and soy sauce. As if a coma requires a low-sodium diet or something. It’s sweet, really. Sweet and misguided and incredibly annoying.

Tim eats happily enough so maybe Jon’s taste buds are off from being a vegetable for weeks on end. “I got the postcards and obviously we talked over the phone. I just don’t understand what happened to you. Something about a ritual? Would you tell me where you went?” Tim asks.

“The circus.”

Tim stiffens. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not… I’m being serious.”

“Oh.” Tim fidgets a bit and stretches out a bit like starfish on his side of the table. He regains his composure after a handful of minutes. There’s something else going on there. Something Tim won’t share and certainly won’t say as he glances to a corner in the living room where he keeps a small selection of family photos.

Jon thinks about asking, of coaxing that answer out of him. He finds himself nearly salivating at the prospect of learning whatever it is that is weighing on Tim’s mind. _No_, he tells himself. _No statements. If you ask him for one, it’s over even if he keeps you. You know that._

“What’s upset you?” Jon asks gently.

“It’s…” Tim sighs heavily. “It’s so hard to explain, Jon.”

“You can tell me. Not this moment, not if you don’t want to, but you can tell me.”

Tim looks away and then slowly meets Jon’s gaze. “Off the record?”

“Entirely. You have my word.” Jon will do a thorough sweep for tape recorders before the conversation even begins.

“I will,” Tim says and he means it. “Just not tonight. You’ve only just come back to me. Somehow.”

“Some other time then,” Jon agrees. He hopes it will be soon.

Tim nods. “Should I make you something else?”

“Hm?”

“To eat. You seem hungry still.”

“Don’t suppose Elias ever sent anything here?”

Tim grimaces. “Yes, and I contemplated moving. It’s a handful of tapes and statements in a box. It’s under the bed somewhere.”

“That might help, actually.”

“Georgie… mentioned that as well. To a degree?”

Jon scowls. “You certainly talked a fair bit despite her disliking you.”

“I think she was hoping advice would make me a better boyfriend. She thought that you—”

“Yes, well, she can…” Jon sighs. “She can be a lovely person when the mood suits her, but you’re a perfectly… perfect boyfriend. We don’t need her list of rules or suggestions. Did she manage to share anything worth repeating?”

Tim sets his hand on top of Jon’s. “She said we ought to get a cat. I was thinking of fostering a pair of kittens to see if some would suit us. Emotional support animals couldn’t hurt.”

“Hm.”

Tim lightly squeezes Jon’s hand and colors slightly when Jon tightens his own grip. “Jon… I love you and I’m so glad you’re here. I’m very pleased that you think I’m perfectly perfect, but you’re wrong. I want to be there for you in a more real way. I don’t want to lose you or put my work up as a sort of barrier between us. I’m going to focus on improving.”

“Then I am going to stop you.”

Tim chuckles. “Me and my nefarious desire to look after you properly? Come over here and make me.”

Jon gets up and circles the table, dragging a chair with him. He sits down next to Tim before kissing him properly if a bit rougher than he usually does. Tim’s lips part for him and he deepens the kiss. He wishes he could just absorb Tim’s secret this way. Just reach in and pluck it out and know it. _No. _No, he is not going to do that.

Jon pulls away, frowning significantly.

Tim looks at him, clearly concerned.

“It’s… Um. I didn’t mean to shove that on you.”

“I don’t mind you kissing me without advance notice,” Tim insists with a smile. “Don’t get me wrong it’s rather touching that you’re such a Victorian gentleman about everything, but I like it when you’re spontaneous.”

“Right.”

Tim strokes Jon’s hair. “I did sort of imply that I wanted a kiss anyway.”

“True,” Jon muses. He isn’t sure he ought to be spontaneous. What he ought to do is go for a long walk to a seedy pub and find someone with a sordid tale to tell. Maybe after Tim falls asleep. He’s a bit of a heavy sleeper.

Tim does his level best to kiss the frown off Jon’s face. It works to a degree.

Jon softens and pulls Tim into a hug. He’s missed him. He’s thought about him the entire time he had to keep away from him. This is only one of many reasons why his past whatever it might be is not a viable meal option. He can’t do that to Tim. Not when Tim wants to adopt a cat for him. Not when Tim visited him every single day. Not when, despite all common sense, Tim has cleared out several drawers for his things ages ago. Tim will likely ask him to move in before the night is over. 

“Are you going to be all right?” Tim asks. He sounds a bit shaky and sort of looks it when Jon hazards a glance in his direction.

Jon manages a smile and hopes it looks reassuring enough. He tugs Tim closer then kisses his cheek. “Of course,” he murmurs. “We both are.”


	4. “Please shut up. I can’t stand how appealing your voice is.” - Peter/Elias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Fataldrum.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Peter begins as Elias picks up the phone. “You’re thinking: If I’m here and you’re here then who is running the Institute.”

Elias sighs, glancing at Peter on the other side of the glass. He really hasn’t wanted to see him and this is precisely why. “I wasn’t thinking that, but I suppose you’re going to tell me.”

“Technically no one, but you’re always watching, right? I’ll leave if there’s trouble.”

“And you’re here because?”

“Because I needed a break.”

“From what?”

“Them. Your people, and before you say anything, I have been a delight to everyone I meet.”

“From their perspective or yours?”

“I’ve only the one perspective, darling.”

“I see.”

“If anyone would, it’s you.”

Elias smiles in spite of himself. “I do recall telling you not to visit.”

“You did, but it’s been long enough. It’s been a month.”

“Happy anniversary.”

“Why thank you. So how are things? Have you started a gang? How’s your prison husband? And what about the kitchen? Are they letting you serve your own unique interpretation of prison fare to avoid your Russian temper?”

“My prison life is, surprisingly, not at all based on a Netflix series.”

“So no prison husband?”

“No.”

“Because you’re picky or because you’ve missed me so very much?”

Elias sighs heavily and closes his eyes.

“What? Is something wrong, sweetheart? I know it’s been a long month. It’s been decidedly dismal out here as well.”

“Please shut up. I can’t stand how appealing your voice is.”

Elias doesn’t need to look to tell Peter is grinning. “Oh really? So you’re glad I visited.”

Elias opens his eyes. “No, I’m just offended by your voice.”

“By my_ appealing_ voice.”

“I think what I said was appalling. Your voice is appalling and I haven’t missed you at all.”

Peter just grins. “Speaking of appealing, do you want to hear a joke?”

“Not if it’s about a banana.”

Peter frowns. “How did you guess?”

“You love puns.”

Peter chuckles. “So how long are you actually in here for?”

“The trial date keeps being delayed. The case will be dismissed but I’ve been a thorn in the side of one too many policemen over the years for it to happen easily.”

“I like when I get to choose not to be near you. I take great displeasure in having that option taken away from me.”

“I just don’t think it does me much good to see you with a plate of glass in the way. If anything, it makes matters worse,” Elias explains. “I was also expecting a bit of gloating on your part. Me being easy to find and all that.”

Peter laughs merrily at this for quite some time. He only stops when Elias threatens to hang his phone up. “Oh, don’t, dear. It’s just… Not to dispel whatever mysterious notions you maintain about yourself, but you are notoriously simple to find. You never leave your Institute. You’re always right where I left you. It’s one of the many things I adore about you.”

“You’re taken with my locatability,” Elias wryly mutters.

“Yes, but it’s not the same without the easy access.”

Elias frowns.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. Hence the expression on my face.”

Peter laughs again. “Do you want to stay here?”

Elias shrugs. He’s tried to see prison as a forced retreat. It hasn’t been working all that well as far as plans go. Prison is not exactly a meditative environment and the guards don’t like his staring. “Not particularly.”

“If I get you out sooner, how much access do I get?”

“I’ll give you every single salacious thing that ought to have gone to my prison husband.”

“The one you didn’t find because you’re so obsessed with me.”

Elias rolls his eyes. “The very same.”

“When does the offer expire?”

“This one doesn’t for quite some time,” Elias traces the glass between them with his fingers. “You get me out and I’ll get you off. I’ll give you whatever your wicked little heart desires, Peter Lukas.”

“Oh, it’s not my heart in this case.”

Elias shrugs. It’s all the same to him. “Whatever the rest of you craves then. It’s all yours the second I’m out of here.”

“For how long?”

Elias tilts his head. He’s been trying to keep away from Jon as it is in the vain hope that Jon will eventually come to him. “Hmm. You tell me what’s acceptable and I’ll abide by it.”

“Six months.”

“Do I need to eat some pomegranate seeds before you drag me back to your lair?”

“You get those in prison?”

Elias snorts.

“No, my little beholder, you just need to agree and abide by the conditions. Or I’ll keep you even longer.”

“Six months.”

“I have your word? I can’t get much else what with the glass and all.”

“They might let you meet me elsewhere if you sign some waivers. I’m allegedly dangerous.”

“Another thing I adore about you. So let’s hear it, my love. What do you say?”

Elias sighs but smiles nonetheless. “Free me and you can have me to yourself for six months. You have my word.”

“And what adjective would you use to describe my voice?”

Elias gives Peter a look before he relents. “Appealing.”

“And why did the banana go out with the prune?”

Elias groans quietly.

Peter just smiles as he continues in a conspiratorial tone: “Because he couldn’t find a date.”


	5. “Bring your pretty little butt over here.” - Peter/Elias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt.

Peter is crumpled up on the couch with an ice pack over one eye when Elias gets home.

“Hello there, sailor,” Elias says, leaning over him. He kisses the part of Peter’s face that isn’t concealed and partially frozen. “I thought you were out to sea for at least another week.”

“We got back early. I thought I’d take care of some business before I surprised you and… well, business took care of me, it would seem.”

“At least you’re using an ice pack this time.”

“I still think raw meat does a better job.”

“If you want to do that, you can buy your own and live somewhere else. Is it just the eye?”

“Aye,” Peter says with a rather dopey smile. “My assailants got the worst of it,” he adds, holding up his fists. His knuckles are fairly bloody. “When their collective turn came around again, I bravely ran like hell and disappeared.”

Elias kisses Peter again in an effort to reinforce good behavior. “You’re learning. Let me see?”

Peter reluctantly moves the ice pack, hissing a little as he does so.

“You’re going to look a bit like a panda,” Elias determines, gently touching the bruising skin. “Poor dear. Also you shouldn’t be applying this directly to your face. I’ll get you a towel.”

“Then you’ll come back?”

Elias strokes Peter’s chin. “Perhaps,” he teases and then he heads into the hall. He selects a cloth and comes back to take away Peter’s ice pack. It’s time to replace it with another.

“Thanks,” Peter mumbles when he’s handed his new supplies. “Now. Bring your pretty little butt over here.”

Elias stares at him. Peter smiles in the same goofy way as before, pressing the ice pack back against his eyelid. “I’m going to assume you’re concussed.”

“Assume away.”

“Sit up.”

Peter groans but he does as he’s instructed. He slides a bit further down the couch and waits.

Elias moves behind him, settling down in the now vacant spot before pulling Peter against him. “This is only for a little while and only because you’re going to apologize.”

Peter chuckles. “No, I don’t think so, sweetheart. I’m not sorry.”

“Not yet,” Elias says in a sort of carefree warning tone.

Peter sighs against him. He would be rolling both of his eyes if he could. “Very well, I’m terribly sorry. How did I dare? I will do my level best to never comment on the quality of your shapely ass ever again.”

“Thank you.”

“Even though,” Peter continues as if Elias hasn’t said anything, “Even though said backside is very much an area in which I am an expert analysis.”

“I’m going to shove you off the couch.”

“You wouldn’t,” Peter insists, making a miserable face. “I’m injured. All I mean is if anyone is going to compliment you on your posterior, it ought to be me.”

“You don’t think anyone else has ever said nice things about it?”

“Simon Fairchild has waxed poetic on the subject a number of occasion. ‘Odes to Elias’ Ass’ being a favorite at the dinner parties you’re not invited to. I’ve shown a few pictures of it to Salesa. He was highly complementary.”

Elias glares, narrowing in on the one aspect of this pile of nonsense that happens to be true. “What pictures?”

“The ones on my phone. I take them when you’re sleeping.”

“I’m leaving you.”

Peter chuckles and wraps his arms around Elias effectively pinning him in place. “No, no, you can’t.”

“You will delete them immediately.”

Peter looks up at him. “Oh, come now, darling. What if I’m teasing you?”

“I know you’re not. I honestly… It’s not surprise to me that you wind up with black eyes, Peter.”

“Want to give me another one? A matching set might be nice. I’ll definitely look like a harmless panda bear then.”

“You are never harmless,” Elias scolds, tugging Peter’s hair. “I’ll have to get my revenge through some other means. It’s not as much fun if you’re asking for it.”

Peter nestles against him and sighs contentedly. “For the record, I don’t show them to anyone. Even when they ask.”

“Oh goodness thank you for that small mercy,” Elias wryly replies.

“You’re welcome. How about a kiss?”

Elias kisses Peter gently on the cheek.

“That’s all?”

“That is far more than you deserve.”

“Come back here,” Peter insists. He tugs Elias to him and kisses him roughly. “You’re mine, you know. I’m allowed to appreciate you.”

“Within reason.”

Peter chuckles. “The pictures are of you, dear, but they’re not just of one particular asset.”

Elias scowls.

Peter brushes a thumb over his lips. “Elias… When I miss you, I miss all of you. Even that giant frightening eye-brain you’ve got. You could argue that I don’t need photographic evidence of the time we spend together. You’re not entirely wrong. Yet sometimes I’m not sure when I’ll see you next given how we leave things. When we’re done with each other it never lasts forever but it lasts long enough to hurt. I like being able to see you. Will you really make me give up all my pictures?”

Elias stares hard at Peter, long enough to make him a bit uncomfortable, before he relents. “Very well,” he decides. “I’ll let you keep your pictures, you dirty old man.”

“You love it.”

“Not exactly, but you can’t pine properly without pictures. So I’ll keep you until you’re healed up because someone needs to look after you.”

“And then?”

“We’ll see how generous I’m feeling.”

Peter smiles hopefully. “That’s something I always say about you. You’re as graceful and comely as you are charitable and kind.”

Elias rolls his eyes. “Laying it on a bit thick there, Lukas.”

“Why? Is it working, Bouchard?”

Elias strokes Peter’s hair and then lets his fingers wander down to the other man’s beard. “Sadly yes, but then it usually does. Perhaps you ought to rest, hm?”

“So long as you’re staying.”

“I’m a bit trapped at the moment so yes. Besides, I don’t have many pictures of you on my phone. I’ll have to memorize your features while I have full access to them.”

Peter closes his eyes as Elias places the ice pack back over the right side of his face. His lips quirk up and into a tired smile. “This is what happens when you put up with me for as long as you have. All my terrible qualities become painfully endearing.”

Elias chuckles. “Ah. Is that what’s happened?”

“I believe so.”

Elias moves slightly to make sure Peter is more comfortable. Then he kisses Peter’s forehead. He doesn’t see any point in arguing about that.


	6. “I wish I could hate you.” - Jon/Tim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt.

Jon only notices the tape recorder when Tim is done telling him about Danny. He waits until Tim’s in the shower before shoving the cassette into the garbage disposal. This pain isn’t his or the Beholding’s.

He didn’t collect it as a statement either or so he hopes.

“I wish I could hate you,” he says aloud, unsure what this particular sentiment is directed to. Maybe Elias if he’s listening in? Maybe the tape recorder? Maybe himself? Maybe everything that’s happened since he’s woken up?

He did actively hate these things at one point but something is different. Something is shifting.

He doesn’t realize he’s been hovering over the sink until Tim wraps his arms around him from behind.

Jon turns around and hugs Tim a bit tighter. He’s wet from the shower, dressed in only a towel. He looks wrung out.

“Let’s take a long weekend,” Jon suggests before instantly regretting it somewhat. Oh, it’ll be simple to get the time off if he sends a text to a very absent Peter Lukas, but things are sort of falling apart around him at work. What little group cohesion once existed is hardly there anymore. Daisy needs him and, if he’s honest, he needs her.

Then again Jon knows he ought to do something to make up for the disappearing act while saving her in the first place. He’s not sure how many times he plans on risking death without informing Tim. Hopefully the number can remain in the single digits.

“That’ll be the day,” Tim murmurs, but there’s no bite to it. “Besides, what will we do?”

Jon lets his hands wander over Tim’s bare arms. What will they do, indeed? “We can try kayaking. Like you’ve wanted to?”

Tim chuckles and kisses Jon’s cheek.

“What? Tandem kayaking is a thing, you said.”

“Tandem kayaking with you sounds… Well, romantic as a concept and absurdly dangerous as a reality. Unless you plan on watching a lot of Youtube videos and practicing.”

“You won’t let me drown.”

“Yes, but are we sure that’s a two-way street?” Tim asks gently. He nuzzles Jon’s neck to soothe any injured feelings. “Kayaking also involves being in nature and handling direct exposure to sunlight.”

Jon sighs. “I can handle the so-called great outdoors, you know. Despite the bugs and the sun and the people and the noise.”

“And the bears wandering into our campsite?”

“Oh no, we’d stay at a hotel. Kayaking is the best you’ll get out of me, Stoker. Because I’ll do any number of stupid things for you.”

Tim grins. He strokes Jon’s cheek and sighs. “It’s a sweet idea and I appreciate it, I do, but the odds of you taking time off right now… What with Daisy and Martin and Basira and Melanie…”

Jon wants to protest, to say he’s not vital. He’s holding any of them together. If anything his presence is the hindrance as it usually is, but Tim thinks he makes a difference somehow. He doesn’t want to strip away all of the good, kind illusions Tim maintains about him. “Maybe next month?”

“Sure. You’ll master rowing in no time. I’ve got the start of that book tour to deal with anyway. End of next week.”

“For the ungrateful bastard or the knitting mystery lady?”

“The second. She’s really sweet but she won’t go anywhere without her Great Dane.”

Jon laughs. “Named Scooby-Doo?”

“Miss Marple. Her health is not what it once was though.”

“This sounds like a task for a PR person or dog trainer. I thought you were just editing a handful of imprints.”

Tim shrugs and smiles. “Yeah, but I agreed to help her a bit. The other one can fend for himself.”

“Always willing to assist,” Jon muses quietly. “How about you help me find the bedroom? I’ve quite forgotten where it is and who knows if the bed is still there or not.”

Tim raises an eyebrow.

“You’re the one wearing hardly anything.”

Tim looks sheepish. “I think I might want to be held a bit.”

Jon smiles thinly. “I was sort of counting on it. I’m sorry you had to keep that to yourself for so long, Tim, and… I’m really grateful you shared it with me.”

“I just miss him so much.”

“I know.” At least he does now. Jon will follow up on it although he doesn’t say as much. This isn’t like a statement he’s found or been given. This isn’t something that has made him feel better or worse in terms of strange, supernatural satisfaction. He won’t treat it that way and Tim had better not suffer any ill effects.

“It’s smart that you left when you did,” Jon adds quietly. “I didn’t think so at first. I was… The way I reacted…”

“Let’s just leave that behind us,” Tim insists, kissing Jon gently. He leans in and whispers: “Now. I think the last time I saw our bed it was over to the left and down the hall.”

Jon chuckles softly.

“I think the odds are good that it might still be there,” Tim continues, taking Jon’s hand in his. “Come with me?”

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have one or two left to write in the near future. I'll add them as they get done.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to Whiskeyjack for reading and enjoying my nonsense so that I feel better about posting it. <3


	7. “Please tell me it’s going to be okay.” - Jon/Martin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt.

Martin startles slightly as the door swings open and Jon steps in. He’s been hiding reasonably well, he thought, and he’d been avoiding Jon as often as possible. It had been easy until now. 

Jon looks ragged, exhausted, and on edge. Martin doesn’t say anything immediately. He rubs his temples and sets down the budget spreadsheet he’d been reviewing.

“Jon, this is—”

“Did I need to make an appointment? An impossible task as you and your boss tend to be invisible if you’re even here at all. Must be a nice trick. If you take the day off, who’s to know?”

“I’m usually here,” Martin reluctantly admits.

“Creating your own fog to keep me at bay. I hope your DJ career is flourishing.”

“You’re cross.”

“Decidedly,” Jon says, sounding miserable. He sinks into a chair and sighs. “I’m losing everyone else and I’ve already lost you. Turns out everything is all my fault. So I suppose the reason I’m here to learn just how I drove you away.”

“Drove…me…away?”

“You can’t stand the sight of me. I’ve never seen this Peter Lukas fellow but by all accounts he’s extremely annoying so I must have done something.”

“Peter does to thank me for the errands I run. And he tends to smile a bit,” Martin teases just to see Jon scowl again. He’s rather missed that look. “In all seriousness, it’s nothing you did. I’m… I’m just working on something. Nothing I can share at this time.”

“You’re turning into Elias.”

“That’s not fair. He would be following you around if he were here.”

Jon shakes his head. “No, he doesn’t want to see me either. No one does.”

Martin frowns. What is Elias up to? Is it the same thing Peter is up to? Is it something different? He’s been feeling better about deciding to follow Peter’s lead, but now that he’s seen Jon that’s no longer true. He feels worse and guilty and lonelier than ever. “When I sort this out, I’ll come find you.”

“The spreadsheet or life, the universe, and everything?”

Martin sighs apologetically. “There’s a great deal involved in my projects. I have work to do that has to be done, Jon.”

“Then do me this courtesy, will you?” Jon asks, looking desperate. “Please tell me it’s going to be okay.”

“Oh.” Martin looks down at his desk. Elias’ desk. A desk. The desk in the office he’s in. He looks up. “I don’t know that it will, Jon.”

“Then what the hell are we doing?”

Martin reaches out and takes Jon’s hands in his. He massages each knuckle, traces each scar. “What we can.”

Jon slumps like a sulking cat and pulls his hands away. He rests his forehead against the desk and sighs heavily.

Martin hesitates for a moment. Eventually he moves to the other side of the desk so he can sit down beside him. Once situated, he begins to stroke Jon’s hair. “Look… If things can’t be okay… There must be something else that could help. What is it you need, Jon?”

Jon breathes in and out slowly. “Someone to tell me what to do, I think. I don’t trust myself and it’s all been myself. Or maybe it hasn’t. Maybe it’s been her. Or maybe it’s him. Or maybe it’s all of us together. Either way, I can’t be left to my own devices. I won’t stop, is the thing.”

Martin frowns a bit, liking this idea as much as he dislikes himself for liking it. Perhaps he is turning into Elias. “I suppose… I suppose I could try to rein you in, but it would have to stay between us. And you need to avoid me unless I say otherwise. Particularly if I insist on it, you understand? Peter’s not as absent as he seems to be. Not as friendly either where most of the staff is concerned.”

Jon glances up, looking opportunistically hopeful. “Do I get to have you to myself sometimes?”

Martin narrows his eyes. “I thought you wanted someone to tell you what to do.”

“I also just… I mean, there’s… There could be—There are things between us to sort out. I’ve missed you considerably. I’d like to get more of your time and attention.”

Martin tugs lightly on Jon’s hair before resuming his ministrations. It’s getting a bit long, but he sort of likes that. “Yes, again, if we can be discreet. He can’t watch everything.”

Jon grins. “Not the way we can.”

Martin smiles. He leans over and kisses Jon’s hair. “There is that. In which case_some_ things stand a very good chance of being okay in future, all right?”

Jon sighs shakily, taking Martin’s hand in his and kissing the back of it. “Thank you,” he says quietly, hugging the hand to his chest. “Thank you.”


	8. “No one’s going to hurt you.” - Jon/Martin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt.

Jon leans back inside of the doorframe when he spots Martin. He nearly staggers, really, it’s so strange to _finally _see Martin anywhere. He just stays there frozen, torn between respecting Martin’s wishes and deciding so much has happened that Martin needs to know that distance no longer matters.

Martin doesn’t notice him, of course. He’s cradling something and heading for an exit.

Jon follows quietly and slowly.

“No one’s going to hurt you,” Martin says solemnly as he crouches down. A skinny, spindly spider makes its way to the concrete step and then to the pavement. “If you stay outside, anyway. It’s… It’s better to stay outside.” He lingers there, looking tired and miserable.

Walk away, Jon thinks to himself. Instead he moves forward and crouches down next to Martin. “Typical. I find you at last and you’re protecting everyone but yourself including the spiders”.

Martin looks away. “I said I didn’t want to see you.”

“And what am I to do when you’re the only person I want to see? Who’s going to keep me from being hurt?”

“It’s safer if we’re apart.”

Jon chuckles darkly. “For who? I haven’t felt safe since I woke up. Just one mistake of many, I suppose.”

Martin relents, glancing at Jon briefly. He stares out the open door, taking Jon’s hand in his. “No,” he says gently. “You needed to come back.”

“Still do. You don’t even know what I’ve— No, that’s not true,” Jon realizes. He’s so tired that everything sort of blurs together and it’s hard to remember who knows what sometimes. But Martin had handed over the tape so of course he knows.

Martin sighs shakily. “I’m not proud of what I’m doing either. If it helps.”

Jon squeezes his hand. “Then let’s stop.”

“You don’t really want to.”

“You do.”

Martin closes his eyes.

“If it’s better outside, let’s go outside. I could use an actual lunch break.”

“I can’t.”

Not even for half an hour?” Jon stands up, pulling Martin along with him. It only works because Martin lets it. “I haven’t seen you so I’ve never said this properly, but I do need you. I needed Sasha and Tim and I left them to their own devices, didn’t I? I can’t keep doing that. I can’t lose you too. I especially can’t lose you.”

“Elias would tell you that assistants are expendable.”

“Assistants might be, but Martin Blackwood is not.”

Martin bites his lip.

“If I could protect anything at all, it would be you,” Jon continues, “and your feelings. But knowing them, knowing you… I’ve missed you. And if there’s ever a time for us, I’d like to try and return them.”

Martin looks away.

“I know you’re trying to prevent what’s coming, but I don’t care what it is. It’s bad and bleak either way, Martin, and I want you to be there.”

“You’re asking for a lot.”

“Then just give me lunch. Just lunch. Just for today.”

Martin wipes at his face. “It’ll be too painful when it ends and I have to go back.”

“Then stay with me. Stay with us.”

“He won’t—”

“No one is going to hurt you,” Jon says quietly. “I’ll deal with him if he so much as tries anything. You’re not sacrificing yourself for any more ungrateful people.”

Martin sighs again. He smiles thinly. “You’re not ungrateful.”

“When it comes to you, I have been decidedly less than deserving. I’m willing to change if you’re willing to give me another chance.”

“What if it puts you in danger?”

Jon laughs bitterly before toning it down a bit. He touches Martin’s cheek and shakes his head. “Oh, Martin. I won’t even notice at this point.”

Martin considers this briefly. “You really think you can protect me?”

“I know I can. Just stay.”

“The others…”

“We’ll look after them. They’ll look after themselves. I know you haven’t been around, but they’re formidable. Apart and particularly together.”

Martin raises an eyebrow.

Jon smirks. “I only hope they arrange as lovely an intervention for you as they did for me.”

Martin looks a bit sheepish. He sighs yet again and then pulls Jon into a hug. “Let’s get lunch and try to sort this out. I… I don’t know if this is a wise course of action, but… I’m not sure I’ve chosen one in a while now.”

Jon holds Martin gently and then a bit firmer. “It’ll be better if we’re together,” he insists. “It’s been so lonely without you.”

“You’ve no idea,” Martin murmurs softly.


	9. “Is that my shirt?” - Peter/Elias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt. [Here is the t-shirt Elias is wearing.](https://evertreeclothing.com/products/lets-get-kraken-t-shirt-tank-top?variant=20507966767162)

“You’re still working?” Peter asks, peering in from the hall. He’s been checking in every so often. Elias has found it annoying and then endearing and now he’s not sure. Somehow Peter thinks the answer will change.

“Nearly done now despite these interruptions. Finishing up a few loose ends.”

“Can any of them keep until tomorrow? You changed.”

Elias sighs. He really hopes they’re not about to have this conversation again. It’s been such a long time and he’s been so content with that. “I have quite consistently been this way the entire time you’ve known me. I’ve always liked working and as I am my job, it follows me home.”

Peter seems startled. “What are you on about? Oh dear lord, no. No, relax, you little bookworm. I meant you’ve literally changed, my love. As in your clothes.”

“Oh.” Elias glances up from the computer screen but he keeps typing on his keyboard. “Yes, well, I thought I might as well get comfortable. I imagine you’re eager to go to bed, hm?”

Peter moves into the room and smirks. “Eager to possess your undivided attention for the rest of the night. Is that my shirt?”

Elias smiles absently. “It must be. I would never in my life own a shirt like this.”

“I don’t see why not.”

Elias peers down at his heather grey t-shirt. There’s an octopus on it and the shirt reads: Let’s get kraken. “I see several things I would normally object to were we not in the privacy of our own home.”

Peter stares forward, smirking still. “I see several things I really, really like although most of what I want is covered up by what is admittedly a ridiculous shirt.”

Elias sighs. “I get so little done when you’re around.”

“Funny. I have the opposite problem. Perhaps we should review our goals. See that they align properly. Over breakfast would be nice? Can you fit me in your schedule sometime between work and more work?”

“I always have time for you,” Elias wryly replies. He saves his Excel spreadsheet and then shuts down his computer. Leaning back in his chair, he steeples his fingers and smiles at Peter. Peter has been looking at him this whole time and it’s rather nice. “Am I making breakfast?”

“That would be so lovely. Thanks, darling.”

Elias got up with a sigh. He wanders over to the other side of his desk, letting his hands rest on Peter’s shoulders. “I actually thought of taking the day,” he murmurs, kissing Peter’s neck.

“Did you?”

“I did,” he says. He kisses Peter again then moves back. He presses the back of his hand into a particularly tense spot between Peter’s shoulder blades. It’s always difficult to tell what causes him stress. The general answer is other people or his family. Peter doesn’t like being alone but he finds people rather exhausting. “What do you think?”

Peter groans quietly, leaning away from his chair to give Elias better access. “We’ll have to make it convincing. I can call you in sick.”

“Oh good. The boss will certainly believe me then,” Elias says with a chuckle. “I think brunch might be best. We could sleep in. You’re a mess, dear.”

“I had a lot of paperwork to deal with. Nathaniel demanded some invoices and… well… The good news is I’ll get reimbursed for most of it.”

Elias pictures him hunched over the keys slowly hen-pecking up words. Or maybe he still uses that old blue typewriter Elias got him ages ago. “You can’t keep putting those off. Start scanning what you write up with your phone and send them over with the app I got you. I’ll handle them.”

“Despite my handwriting?”

Elias smiles fondly. “I enjoy your handwriting. It’s like a very unique cypher only you and I know.”

“All right but I’ll owe you a favor.”

“Let me make a proper budget for you then.”

Peter groans. Not because of Elias’ hands working on the small of his back but because of the words coming out of Elias’ mouth. “Please, spare me.”

Elias tugged Peter’s hair, pulling his head back and kissing him. “Never.”

Peter turns around fairly swiftly even as he returns the kiss. He lets Elias control it though. He’s always been rather kind about control. “Something else though?” he asks quietly, panting slightly when they finally part. “A real favor, Elias. Not these trivial things you take on for my sake.”

Elias strokes Peter’s stubbled cheek. He misses the beard but it’ll grow back soon enough. Peter looks good this way too. A bit more rugged than normal, but if Elias asks him he’ll continue to refrain from shaving properly in the morning.

“I’ll let you handle the invoices from now on,” Peter points out. “With the app. Nathaniel will be so proud.”

Elias rolls his eyes. “All right. Bed?”

“Bed, but not for sleeping.” Peter kisses Elias as he gets to his feet. “You’ll notice I haven’t referred to the contents of your shirt in anyway.”

Elias pats Peter’s cheek gently. “I did notice and I admire your restraint.”

“And a good many other things, I trust.”

“Every little thing about you.”

Peter frowns.

Elias huffs out a breath and takes Peter’s hand in his. “Oh goodness. Very well, I adore all the rest of you too. Some of which is quite large in a very satisfactory way.”

Peter makes a face. “I suppose I should thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome. Come along then before I change my mind.”

“Of course.”


	10. “I’m fine with where I am now.” - Peter/Elias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt.

It was meant to be a garden party but before anything could actually happen, the rain began coming down in buckets. They gathered inside instead.

Elias drank a bit more than he normally did, aware of Nathaniel’s gaze from time to time. He’d gone with a white shirt and blue chinos given the warm spring day. The shirt was currently clinging to him and entirely sheer from rainwater.

In sympathy, or more like in a fit of pique at the attention Elias was getting, Peter had given him his jacket. Only the jacket was a bright red and green plaid abomination complete with matching pocket square.

That didn’t seem to be enough for the other man and so Elias was sort of nestled under Peter’s arm as if he’d all but drowned on the way into the house. To be fair, though he thought it has a bit less to do with his current sopping wet predicament and more to do with Peter’s general dislike of social occasions.

“You’ve seen a lot of me lately… Don’t you want to talk to anyone else?” Elias asked after a while. He was fairly certain his hint would be heard and ignored, but he had to try.

Peter shrugged slightly, keeping Elias prisoner. “I said hello to everyone here. Lunch will be served soon once they move everything in. Then there will be a general discussion of some kind.”

“I remember. You forget how often I’ve been here.”

“With me,” Peter agreed. His arm wrapped a bit firmer around Elias’ waist. “You don’t like me looking after you? I quite like looking after you.”

Elias sighed quietly and sipped at his drink. “I’m hardly about to melt from a bit of rain.”

Peter smirked and kissed Elias’ hair. “Even though you’re so very, very sweet?” He punctuated each word with another kiss. First to Elias’ brow and then to his cheek and finally to his lips.

The longer they were together, the harder it was to get any time alone. Then again, it wasn’t like very many people felt the same way. Elias could count the individuals who wanted to spend every waking minute with him on one hand and have four fingers to spare.

“The thing is,” Peter said in a confiding tone, “I don’t really like anyone here besides you. Not a single person. That seems to mean that the great deal of affection I harbor for you, the one person I can stand, has increased exponentially to the point where I have to express it in some way. I’m sure you can tell.”

“I’m feeling a bit smothered by it, truth be told.”

“I feel like it’s whenever I let you out of my sight that trouble finds you during a visit,” Peter points out. “You got wet because you were helping that old bat get inside. She kept limping and leaning on you and it took ages. Then she shoved you back out as she went inside and, well, I feel bad that you got locked out.”

“It wasn’t for very long. Strange. She seemed so feeble the entire walk up to the manor but she was oddly spry once we got to the entrance.”

Peter grimaces. “I’ve told you to avoid Aunt Agatha. She loathes me and therefore you. It’s the trick I pulled when I was six. Children are neither be seen nor heard nor referred to in polite society, she used to say. Very loudly since she’s always been an adult. I’m not sure how long she’s got left but it’s insufferable. She’s made some sort of ancient pact with someone, that’s the only explanation.”

Elias patted Peter’s arm. “Can we drive back tonight?”

“Ideally. No telling when they’ll be done with us though.”

Elias downed the rest of his drink.

Peter laughed. “You’re going to make me drive, aren’t you? In that case, there’s a lovely bed and breakfast I thought we’d try.”

“Oh how nice. We’re not going to stay in the very small guest bedroom full of dolls again?”

“I have apologized for that often and… I’ll do so again. I’m very sorry we stayed in that room… What, two decades ago?”

Elias grinned and pulled Peter to him for a kiss. “Good. You’re the sweet one, Peter. I always say so.”

“I see. To whom exactly?”

“All of our many friends. Can’t you see them?”

Peter chuckled. “I’m fine with where I am now. Here alone with you. I’m sure you could do better, of course.”

“I’ll never know seeing as I wouldn’t want to,” Elias replied, flicking Peter’s bowtie with a few fingers. “Outside of your steady barrage of eye-gouging plaid, I’m content.”

Peter moved Elias into his arms and nuzzled his neck. “I’ve told you if you want me to wear something in particular, you’ve only to lay it out or inform the tailor. They’ve got the measurements and they’ll do what you say. Otherwise you’re stuck with whatever my eyes land on.”

“I’m certainly stuck with you.”

Peter eyed him with feigned solemnity. “No getting rid of me this late in the game, I’m afraid. But look on the bright side. It could have been paisley or checkerboard.”

Elias shook his head. “Bloody hell, Lukas. I’m having a long talk with your tailor on Monday.”

Peter kissed his cheek. “I can’t wait.”


	11. “Is that blood?” - Peter/Elias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt. This is set in a Regency Pirate AU. 
> 
> My inspiration is a project I'm working on and @emperiocism‘s [lovely artwork here](https://twitter.com/emperiocism/status/1158446849449218051).

It was frustrating, really. Every time they seemed to make some progress, some sort of sea battle took place and Elias spent it bound and gagged in Peter’s bed. He cheated, of course, and watched everything, but he wasn’t allowed to participate.

“And when you lose, won’t I make a lovely parcel for the victor,” Elias had complained this last time.

“I never lose,” Peter had insisted. “You’re my little good luck charm. Something to look forward to when it’s all over.” He’d kissed Elias for good luck before trussing him up properly.

Elias detested the superstitious nature of men of the sea. Less so than he had before being saddled with pirates, however. His being kept like a damsel in distress was now somehow a part of Peter’s success and therefore essential.

Peter came in, looking content. When the door opened, Elias heard the usual laughter of celebration. They were done dealing with the crew they’d fought against, having disposed of the entire lot this time. Something else Peter seemed to have decided Elias couldn’t handle.

Peter smirked as he knelt on the edge of the bed. He was down to a shirt with rolled up sleeves, his jacket, hat, and scarf were who knew where. Scars went up his arms, most of them old and faded, tanned from exposure to the sun. He was going to have quite a black eye in the morning.

“Hello again. My, but you are always a sight for sore eyes when you’re like this. Or should that be eye,” Peter mused. He kissed Elia’s cheek, nipping and licking at his neck. “I missed you.”

Elias tried to say something but it was more like a whimper thanks to the gag.

Peter grinned. He removed the cloth, stroking Elias’ cheek as he leaned over him. “Oh, I won, by the by.”

“Mm hm. I know, dear. I watched.”

“Up until?”

Elias rolled his eyes. “The violent executions and the rolling out of the gangplank for lesser charges, I remembered. Can I be released now?”

“From your bonds. You’re never going to be free of me.”

Elias sighed happily when the ropes were removed from his wrists and then from around his ankles. He drew back when Peter drew in to kiss him. “Is that blood? On your teeth?

“A bit.”

“How did that happen? I didn’t see anyone get that close to you.”

“That was when I fell during the last swordfight with their leader. My face got a sound thwacking from her boot. You must have moved on to someone else.”

Elias frowned as he sat up. “I did… I wanted to see the rest of their ship. Oh, Peter.”

Peter eyed him with the same wary suspicion he always did, but he let Elias inspect his face and opened his mouth slightly when Elias insisted on examining his teeth. He sulked a bit when Elias kept fussing, acting more like a petulant cat than a stern pirate. “I’m fine.”

“You might have a concussion. You ought to rest.”

“Later,” Peter said dismissively. “I know you’re not interested in joining us, but there’s to be drinking and merrymaking.”

Elias shook his head. “Not while you’re recovering.”

Peter scowled slightly. “The crew—”

“Can fend for themselves while I look after you.” Elias softened his decision by kissing Peter’s cheek and then his lips.

“Are going to look for a new leader if they never see me because I’m too busy doing what you want,” Peter concluded when the kiss was over.

“You kidnapped me,” Elias pointed out. “If you didn’t want me, you should have made away with someone else. You’re the one who told them we’re to be married the next time we’re at port anyway.”

“We are.”

“So don’t you think it would seem a bit more odd to them if you spent the night drinking on deck while I sit there on a bench darning your socks?”

“I’ve asked you not to do that.”

“That’s true,” Elias admitted. “Very well. I will make an effort to let you wear socks with holes in them as often as you like. Marriage is all about communication and listening.”

Peter mumbled something.

“Pardon?”

“You can do it just not where the crew can see.”

Elias chuckled. “Because of how large the pile was? Maybe you’re in need of a pedicure.”

Peter colored slightly. “Because I’m a captain of a pirate ship, dearest, and you’re a reward I’ve been granted. You’re not supposed to be sunning yourself while reading, teaching me how navigational tools work, making soup to ensure I’ve had my vegetables, or force-feeding me oranges.”

“A fair point. I’m supposed to be building my Institute with funds procured from my doting, elderly fiancé, Simon Fairchild. You remember him? He probably held you when you were an infant.”

Peter growled, pushing Elias back onto the bed. He kissed him roughly, deepening it for a bit and tugging on Elias’ lower lip. “I try not to think of him,” he murmured. “You’re never to think of him. You’re mine now, sweetheart. You get what you get when I decide to give it to you.”

“What if I’d prefer otherwise?”

“You _prefer_ me.”

“I do no such thing, but I’m content enough here. Money is money regardless of where it comes from. And you’re as handsome as you are irritating.”

Peter stared at him and then laughed as Elias just continued to meet his gaze. “Just for that you’re taking care of me all night long,” he said, punctuating every word with another kiss. “Until my name is the only thing you can remember.”

“Right, and what is your name again?” Elias teased.

Peter sighed in mock despair. “You make such a pretty picture all tied up. Why can’t I keep you that way, hm?”

Elias kissed Peter gently, carding his fingers through the other man’s hair. “You prefer me.”

Peter smiled fondly. “Lord help me, but I do.”


	12. “Take my jacket. It’s cold outside.” - Peter/Martin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt.

Martin sighed as he looked around the office. Just half a day left and he’d have a weekend. Two days of absolute nothingness to compliment the nothing he’d accomplished all week. 

Oh, he’d done the budgets, the time-sheets, the research, and the preparations for the next board meeting, but it felt very pointless. It all did, really. Daisy hadn’t come back since he’d chased her away and he should have been happy he was safe, but he missed her. He missed all of them. He missed Jon.

He was, of course, aware of Peter before he materialized in the doorway.

“Have you eaten?”

“No, I’ll have tea soon.”

“You could go home early.”

“No, thank you.” Martin didn’t want any more favors however so banal from Peter. He rubbed his forehead and stared at the computer screen ahead of him.

“So very tense,” Peter commented, setting his hands lightly on Martin’s shoulders. “I’d hoped you’d be pleased.”

“With what?” Martin asked, irritated to find his tone was a bit desperate. But it was and he did want something to tell him just what he had to be happy about._Please let there be something_, he thought, biting his lips as Peter massaged his back. He didn’t mind. He’d gotten used to it and Peter had asked the first half dozen times so it wasn’t unexpected.

“In yourself. In your resolve,” Peter murmured. “You’re doing very, very well.”

“Hooray for me then,” Martin said with a lack of enthusiasm.

“What are you doing this weekend?”

_I’ll likely wear pajamas all day, eat cereal for every meal, and watch Netflix. Possibly cry in the shower if the mood strikes me._ “Oh, I’ve… I’ll… There’s bound to be something that’ll turn up.”

“I thought of taking a long one. To Flam in Norway.”

“Why, what’s there?”

“Nothing.”

Martin couldn’t help himself. He laughed. It wasn’t a sad sort of defeated sound so much as genuine amusement. Nothing, and Peter would really go too, Martin thought, feeling slightly fond.

“Well, there’s fjords and a breathtaking view,” Peter amended. Martin didn’t need to glance back to know he was smiling. “But there’s nothing much that needs doing and no one there to bother you. It’s relaxing.”

“How can you stand it? Really?”

“Hm?” Peter let go of Martin’s shoulders and gently turned Martin’s chair around. “Oh, Martin.” He sounded sympathetic though, no disappointed. “I’m so used to it. I’ve embraced it. I don’t have what you have.”

“What’s that?”

Peter patted Martin’s cheek in a way that ought to have been patronizing but was instead tender. “Optimism in spite of everything. Keep that if you can.”

“Will it do me much good?”

“Does your hand or your face always do you a great deal of good?” Peter asked with a smile. “It’s a part of you. It’s best to retain as many of those as possible. Now, to business.”

Martin chuckled again. If there was one thing Peter did not do, it was discuss business.

“You see, I was hoping you’d come with. You won’t need to bring much. I’ll provide the rest. You’re in need of a break and I quite like spending time with you.”

“For how long?”

“Four, maybe five days. I can alert whoever needs alerting. I’ll behave.”

Martin sighed heavily. “I’ve never been to Norway,” he admitted. He’d never been to Spain or Portugal or Hungary until Peter either.

“It’s worth a look, I’d say. Just a brief holiday look.”

Martin smiled slightly. “So what did you order for lunch?”

“Thai from around the corner. It’s already paid for. Should be done by now.”

“I’ll pick it up,” Martin volunteered before Peter could tell him to go. He got up and walked past Peter, slowly making his way to the door. “And, all right, I’ll enjoy nothing with you in Flam.”

“I rather thought you would,” Peter said with a smirk. “Hold on. Here,” he said, handing Martin some bills. “For the tip and to make up for the ones you’ve been paying.”

Martin ducked his head and then smiled. “It’s not a very big deal.”

“Then let’s stop talking about it. Keep the change, hm?” Peter kissed Martin’s cheek before sitting down at the desk. “Do these things still come with Minesweeper?”

“If you break it, I’m staying home.”

“I’d never,” Peter promised. His lips thinned into a line as he concentrated on moving the mouse.

Martin shook his head. It was rather painful to watch. “Don’t strain anything either.”

“It’s like somehow I found a second one,” Peter muttered to himself. “How is that possible?”

Martin didn’t ask when Peter made these comments. He felt that he almost knew what Peter meant by them now. And he was concerned comparisons were being drawn between himself and Elias.

Peter glanced up and winked. “Go on then. Take my jacket. It’s cold outside.”

Martin frowned but he did take Peter’s coat, blushing when Peter grinned. If he inhaled deeply, savoring the silken lining and wool exterior smelled like the sea, tobacco, and ozone, no one was there to notice once he was out on the street.


End file.
